Friday, May 22, 2015

Once upon a time, the Emperor hosted a banquet. Some of his
guests dined with cutlery and plates made of gold; but his most honored guests
dined with cutlery and plates made of a metal even rarer than gold; element 13,
known as Aluminum.

After the banquet, the servants piled the gold and aluminum
plates into the kitchen sink; and there gold whispered to aluminum, “How does
it feel to be one of the valuable metals?”

Gold said, “What more do you need? Look at me! Who cares
that I’m ductile, nonreactive and conductive? I’m rare, so I rule the world!”

Aluminum said, “That’s not what I want.”

Thirty years later electrochemists learned how to extract
aluminum from bauxite cheaply by the tonne. A century later a railway worker
laid his gold retirement watch next to a can of beer. There gold whispered to
aluminum, “They have cheapened you.”

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Once upon a time, a Dragon awoke to the sound of holiday
celebration from a nearby Human town. It rumbled, “This agitation must be
suppressed.” The Dragon scuttled out of its den, unfolded its enormous wings
and lifted into the sky with a cry of “LAW AND ORDER!”

Halfway to town the Dragon landed, fried a flock of sheep
with one breath, and devoured them in one gulp. It belched a fireball and said,
“I am the victim here.” Then it
resumed flight.

Once above town it howled and blazed. Humans scattered
before it like ants, and they withered under its fire-blasts. The Dragon
roared, “Acceptable collateral damage!” It tore down the Bank, shoveled gold
and jewels through its mouth into its crop, then said, “Criminal loot
confiscated!” The Dragon lifted off, setting fires everywhere. It flew away
from the fire-storm, and it bellowed, “I have destroyed the town in order to
save it!”

Once back in its den the Dragon coughed gold and gems out
of its crop onto its hoard. It curled around its hoard, closed its eyes and rumbled,
“Doing well by doing good.”

The next day, a Knight entered the Dragon’s den. He had
fireproof armor and a sharp sword. The Dragon roared, “Unprovoked aggression
shall not stand!” They battled, and the Dragon suffered a mortal wound. With
its dying breath it said, “History will vindicate me.”

Moral:Even a monster
can claim virtue.

Comment: Noam Chomsky said, “Benign intentions are virtually
always professed, even by the worst monsters, and hence carry no information,
even in the technical sense of that term.” The last eight words display
Chomsky’s characteristic rigor and sarcasm.

I
read this, then asked myself, “Even the worst monsters? All right then, why not
a dragon?” Thus this fable was conceived.

The Cockroach clicked ‘send’, and scurried down the
table-leg to the floor; but before he reached safety, a Human stepped on him.

His indestructible cockroach soul instantly teleported to the
throne-room of Hell. He chittered, “Lord, I did it! I sent the email you asked!
To those troublemaking secular soldiers! Didn’t I do good?”

Satan closed his eyes, accessed files, then said, “Ah, yes,
that email.” He opened his eyes. “No,
vermin, you did not ‘do good’.”

“W-what did I do wrong?”

Satan said, “Take the first three words. Only two were misspelled! Why not all three?
You failed to use a capital U for y-o-u!”

“I forgot! I’m
sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t grovel!”
Satan raged. “You know I don’t like
groveling! And what’s with those multiple exclamation points? Only seven?Didn’t I directly
order you to use thirteen?”

“B-but the main text, Lord! Its smugness, illogic, greed
and hate!”

“Barely
adequate,” Satan said, teeth gritted. “And you flirt with honesty! Which is against Company policy! And worst
of all…”

“You cringing idiot!”
Satan rose from his throne and pointed his left arm straight at the former
Cockroach. His fist was clenched, his middle finger extended. He intoned, “For
your incompetence, I hereby devolve you to an
even lower life form!”

He shot a lightning bolt out of his middle finger: ZOTZ!

The former Cockroach groaned and said, “Where am I? What am
I?” He looked down and saw two arms, two legs, a business suit and Guccis. He
looked around and saw studio lights, TV cameras, choir and audience. A banner
on the wall read Dominion Gospel Hour.
He looked at his hands; his right hand held a microphone, and his left wrist
bore an oversized gold-plated diamond-studded wristwatch.

The former Cockroach wailed, “Oh no! I’m a Televangelist!”

Moral:Haters will
prate.

Comment: This
Underfable emphasizes the importance of correct spelling. It is dedicated to
Bonnie and Mikey Weinstein, founders of the Military Religious Freedom
Foundation, discoverers of a nest of Dominionist theocrats in America’s armed
forces. They are true heroes of the Republic, if only for reading through hate
mail spelled even worse than what’s here.

The Cockroach was twice almost honest, in the last
sentences of the second and third paragraphs of his email. I leave evaluating
the fourth paragraph to theologians and soldiers. His threat of Heaven is as
convincing, and in a similar spirit, as a televangelist’s threat of Hell. His
cascade of vile slurs climaxes with ‘saints’.